Barry Lewis: Today's real Super Bowl is the one full of snacks

There are guys who have had this date circled on the calendar for months. I wouldn't be surprised if it hasn't been on the minds of some folks since last year's game ended.

Now it's been argued by sports radio pundits, water cooler prognosticators and neighborhood prophets about just what we can expect today. What do most people want to see? What will satisfy the fans' appetites. What will leave them hungry for more?

It won't be the passing of Baltimore Raven quarterback Joe Flacco. The running attack of 49ers young signal caller Colin Kaepernick. Or surely a career-ending victory lap by Ray Lewis.

That's what I want to see on Super Bowl Sunday. Pass the ball? Just pass me a wing. And more barbecue sauce.

For on this day, it's not about the gridiron but the gluttony. The agony of defeat is when the chips outlast the dip. When there's no chili for the second half. When the dogs pilfer the puff balls.

It really is a special day.

Folks who wouldn't think twice about watching football will spend hours in front of their televisions.

And folks like myself who watch what we eat all year spend hours eating, and watching as we eat some more.

But Barry, what about the game? OK, what about it?

Who cares?

Honestly, do you care who wins the Super Bowl? This Super Bowl? Between the Ravens and the 49ers? Really?

Now let me ask you — do you care about what you'll be eating before, during and after the Super Bowl? I thought so.

Most of these games turn out to be duds. There's no way they can live up to all the hype. What if it's a blowout by the third quarter? You've seen all the commercials and Beyonce lip-sync her hits.

The only thing that can save your Super Sunday is the guarantee that at any point from the start of the pre-pre-pre game show to the end of the post-post-post game show is the knowledge that you will eat well. Not well as in healthy, but so well that your family and friends will fondly be calling you "The Gormandizer!"

The best Super Bowl meals aren't fancy — but have just the right chemistry.

A few years ago, my wife decided to frou-frou a simple Philly cheese steak by following a recipe from Rachael Ray. Agonizing.

So close, and yet — like the Bills' Scott Norwood's field goal try in the Super Bowl that went wide right — it missed. Cost them the championship. Cost me a championship meal.

So who's gonna win today?

Could come down to the final minutes and who gets the last bacon-cheese wrap.